


With Pleasure

by mischiefgoddesscomplex



Series: Professor Loki and Student Darcy [1]
Category: Tasertricks - Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Sex, Smut, Valentine's Day, porn with minor plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischiefgoddesscomplex/pseuds/mischiefgoddesscomplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy can’t help but lust after the hot professor that always comes into the library during her shift, and she has a feeling that she’s caught his eye as well. So when she winds up in his class the next semester, it’s only natural that they find themselves in a most deliciously precarious position.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm an idiot and accidentally deleted this entire work, like, right after I posted it. So here's my repost! Happy Valentine's Day to you all. This is definitely the longest oneshot I've ever written, and in the shortest amount of time. Kudos and comments are kind and appreciated!

When Darcy kicks her legs up on the checkout desk, she accidentally knocks over a little mug full of pencils. The incident earns an even louder “Shh!” from the head librarian, her boss, sitting just behind the main desk in her office. Darcy rolls her eyes, bending over to scoop up the pencils, making a point to be louder than normal as she replaces it on the desk. 

She unwraps a piece of cinnamon gum, biting down into the small stick piece by tiny piece as she glances up at the clock. Only one hour and thirteen minutes left until she was done with this lame on-campus librarian job. Another bite of gum. One hour and twelve minutes. An even slower bite. One hour and eleven minutes. 

There’s a People magazine from June of 2012 underneath the desk, piled with a huge stack of outdated editorials. With graduation impending and no homework to do for once, Darcy plucks the issue out and begins to flip through it. Khloe Kardashian is fighting to save her marriage with Lamar Odem. Drew Barrymore is getting married. Jessica Simpson is having a baby. 

Darcy steals another glance at the clock. One hour and five minutes. So close. Her advisor had asked for a meeting with her after work, and Darcy assumes it’s just to go over the fine details of graduation. The sooner she can get out of here, the sooner she can get out of there, and her life will finally have nothing more to do with this godforsaken university. 

A few students come by to drop off long-overdue books, but the flow is excruciatingly slow. Considering almost everyone’s finals are over, and many students have already left for Christmas break, this isn’t a big shocker. 

Darcy picks at the split-ends on one wavy lock of hair, tilting her head back and blowing an exaggerated sigh up at the tiled ceiling. What an ugly colored ceiling. God, who decided on that? So dirty white it almost looked puke green and - 

“Excuse me?”

The deep British voice shakes her out of her reverie, and she snaps up to see who’s speaking to her. She’s so startled that when she swings her feet off the desk, they knock over the mug of pencils again. 

“Shit,” She mumbles, scooping them up quickly just as the head librarian practically yells “Shh!” once more. When Darcy looks back up, the man who had spoken is standing in front of the desk.

Not just any man, though. _That_ man. The one who had been coming in since the end of November. Darcy had noticed him almost instantly. But when a gorgeous six-foot tall man with shoulder-length black hair walks into the library dressed in sharp suits every time, it’s hard to not pay attention. 

He’s older than most of the kids that frequent the library, probably in his early thirties, and Darcy wonders if he’s some kind of Doogie Howser professor type. He usually comes in and takes up a whole table in the back left corner, by the old history stacks and away from any of the main traffic areas. Always minding his own business, he never says anything to anyone, as far as she could tell. Until today, that is.

“Terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” He apologizes, his voice like warm chocolate on a cold day. And so richly and properly English. Darcy licks her bottom lip a little as she looks up at him.

“No problem,” She says. _No problem at all,_ she thinks a little more suggestively.

“I was wondering if you might help me locate a book?” He asks, pulling a scrap of paper out of his jacket pocket and looking down, “ _The Archidamian War_ by Kagan?” 

“You’re gunna have to spell that for me,” Darcy laughs humorlessly to herself as she clicks away on the computer in front of her. Eventually she ends up with a hit, and she prints out the paper with the information, pushing herself back on her wheelie chair to grab it. 

“Follow me,” She replies, flipping her hair across her shoulder as she stands up and rounds the corner of the desk with a new spring in her step. He smiles gratefully at her and his teeth are beautifully bright. It’s like staring into the sun. 

The head-librarian pokes her head around her office door, “Darcy? You’re off the clock. You can go home now.”

Darcy steals a glance at the clock. Well what do you know. She looks back at the bookish, hot stranger before yelling back at the librarian, “I’m fine! I’ll leave after this.”

She beckons him with one hand, not caring at all anymore that she’s now technically working overtime. It’s worth it to spend a little time with the mystery resident cute guy. She guides him up the main flight of stairs, looking back once to make sure he was following her, “So, you a professor or something?” 

“I am.” He responds with a hint of pride, nodding his head, “Professor Loki Laufeyson. Working on changing that to doctor.” 

Darcy makes a sound of intrigue, glancing down at the giant leather briefcase he always carried with him. Makes sense, now that she thinks about it. The long hours tucked away in the library. The papers he kept strewn across his desk. The furious scratching of pencil on paper she heard whenever she walked by his table. He was an old-fashioned kind of guy - she can’t remember ever seeing him use a laptop. 

“I knew you weren’t a student,” Darcy says with a hint of smugness, smacking on her cinnamon gum as she rounds one of the shelves in search of the book. 

“Thank you?” Loki responds with uncertainty from behind her. 

Darcy lets out a breathy laugh, eyes scanning the shelves, “It’s a compliment.” 

“Ah.”

She finds the spot the book should be located in, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the row of books. They’re in the far back of the library now, and she’s not sure she’s ever seen a student come back here to check out a book before. She squints as her eyes travel upwards before landing on the title of the book on a high shelf. 

“Right…here…” She grunts a little, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to reach for it. 

“Oh, let me,” Loki responds, stepping in and reaching up. He comes so close to Darcy that their bodies almost touch, and she catches a whiff of his aftershave. Sharp, like pine needles, with just a hint of musk. It’s incredibly attractive. 

He grabs the book from the shelf, and when he pulls his arm back down, he seems to notice their close proximity as well. He smiles, coughing a little as he takes a step back, “Thank you for your assistance, Miss…?”

“Darcy,” She replies biting down on her lower lip, “Darcy Lewis.”

“Miss Lewis.” He says, the name rolling off his tongue so smoothly. Darcy decides she’s never heard her name sound so pleasing before. And like a snap-fire response, she’s imagining how it might sound coming out of his mouth in other scenarios…

“My pleasure,” She says half to herself, watching him longingly as he walks off towards his usual table. 

_____________________________

“What do you mean, ONE MORE CLASS?” 

Darcy can’t control her rising anger, sitting in her advisor’s office. She was already late to the meeting, thanks to her encounter with Loki Laufeyson. And now she sits in front of her advisor, mouth agape as she’s being told that there had been a glitch in the system. 

“It appears you’ve failed to complete a humanities elective,” Her advisor says, squinting at her computer monitor as she adjusts her glasses. “Our systems showed that you had, but we’ve since updated them, revealing this terrible mistake.”

“Can’t you just let me graduate?” Darcy asks, the plea in her voice evident, “It’s just one class. Please?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Lewis, but rules are rules,” the advisors sighs like she’s not in the least bit sorry, “You’re unqualified to graduate until you complete at least three more credit hours of a humanity elective. Now, since this was the university’s mistake, we’ll be paying the expenses for your enrollment in this class. But I’m afraid you’ll need to do this if you’d like to graduate.” 

“Fuck me,” Darcy curses under her breath, groaning into her hands as she runs them up through her hair. She was meant to be graduating _this weekend_. Now she wont get out of this shithole until May. This was exactly the last thing she wanted to hear on her supposed last day of school. “Okay, so, what are my options here?”

“It appears there’s one history class still available for you to take as an elective,” The advisor says, clicking on her keyboard, “I can enroll you now, if you’d like?”

“Do I have any other choice?” Darcy asks, the sarcasm coming out with more bite than she’d intended. At least she can work full-time now at the library instead of part-time. Joy. 

“Alright, you’ll be taking A History of Mythology every Tuesday and Thursday night from 6 to 7:30 pm in the Classical Arts building with Professor Laufeyson.”

Instantly, Darcy perks up in her seat. “Loki Laufeyson?”

“Yes, will that work for you?”

And just like that, Darcy’s gloomy disposition begins to slowly brighten. Spending two nights a week with the dreamy, dark-haired boy genius? Maybe this won’t be such a waste of time, after all.

“That works just fine.” 

_____________________________

Christmas break is relatively uneventful. She flies home for a few days, schmoozes with family and relatives, gets too drunk at the family dinner, makes one too many radical comments for her parent’s taste. The usual. At least she hadn’t managed to accidentally set fire to the turkey like she had the previous year. 

When she arrives back at school, her library job is still waiting for her. She’s grateful for that, at least. The job is the easiest money she’s ever made in her life. And it gives her more opportunities to cross paths with the professor. 

Their first meeting after break, however, does not come in the library, but rather on the first night of classes. 

Darcy manages to arrive late to her only class, _his_ class. It’s been a while since she’s ever taken a class in the Classical Arts building. When she finally finds the room, she opens the door to see a packed lecture hall, the seats rising up towards the ceiling in the back of the room. Loki stands in the front, writing on a chalkboard. 

She manages to slip in, finding the only empty seat smack dab in the middle of the first row. It’s so quiet save for the scratching of chalk on the board. Shrugging out of her jacket, she sits back in the chair, casting her gaze towards the man in the front of the room. 

He’s wearing a black vest and pants with a white dress shirt, his black hair pulled back into a messy little bun at the back of his head. The cuffs of his shirt are rolled up, providing the perfect view of his arm muscles twitching and growing taught as he writes his name on the board. When he finishes, he sets the chalk down, clapping his hands together as a little white cloud of dust billows around them.

His piercing green eyes land directly on hers when he turns around, and she feels a pleasant shiver race down her spine. 

“I’m Professor Laufeyson, and this is a History of Mythology,” He says, that deep voice echoing out around the room. Darcy looks around to see half the female population and even some of the males are enraptured by him. Rightfully so. 

He goes on to give a description of the class: how they’ll be learning about mythology from countries around the world, their origins, their stories, their cultural impacts. Already Darcy feels way out of her depth, chewing on the top of her pen as she listens to him speak. 

“If you need to contact me, you’ll need to set up an appointment as I currently don’t offer office hours,” Loki explains, leaning against the front of his desk with the syllabus in his hands, “I’m working on completing my doctorate in classical studies, so hopefully by the end of the semester you’ll be able to call me Doctor Laufeyson. Though I won’t take offense if you decide to call me that sooner.” 

The comment earns polite laughter from the class, even more so from the girls who are obviously already smitten with him. Darcy continues to stare intently at him throughout his lecture, catching his eye a few times as she sucks on the tip of her pen. She swears she even hears him clear his throat softly once before looking away from her. 

Oh yes. This will be a fun semester. 

“Our first exam will be on February seventeenth, the week after Valentine’s day,” He says as their first class comes to a close, “If you feel inadequately prepared before then, I encourage you to come to me with any questions you have.” His eyes linger on Darcy’s for a smidgeon longer when he says that, and it causes her stomach to drop just a tad. 

“Class dismissed,” Loki says, and the sound of students shuffling together their belongings intensifies. 

Darcy packs her bag extra slow. She hadn’t really brought anything anyway. Long gone is the over-eagerness of her freshmen days. She’s probably the oldest student in this class at twenty-two, and it shows with her single notebook and blue pen. 

Loki is looking down at a few sheets of paper on his desk when she approaches him. The classroom is practically empty by this point, save for a few stragglers. She taps her pen lightly on his desk to get his attention.

“Fancy seeing you here,” She greets him with a bright smile. He looks up at her with a grin, straightening up until he’s towering above her once more, all smoldering eyes and lean arm muscles. The sight alone makes her weak in the knees. She’ll be damned if she doesn’t climb that like a tree at least once by the end of the semester. 

“Ah, Miss Lewis,” He says, his voice a low and rumbling sound. “You were late to class.”

“You noticed?” She asks, her voice a mixture of surprised and impressed. 

“You’ll find I’m very perceptive,” He responds with a glint in his eye, the smile on his lips way too sinful for a conversation so seemingly innocent. 

“I look forward to challenging that,” Darcy fires back flirtatiously, feeling emboldened in his presence. The little inquisitive tilt of his head is akin to that of a puppy, and she suddenly can’t believe how one person can be so adorable and so sexy at the same time. 

When she turns around to leave, she makes sure to put a little extra swing in her hips in case he’s watching. She doesn’t turn around to check, but she doesn’t have to. She’s wearing her favorite pair of jeans - the ones that hug her tight around the waist, really showing off her ass. She doesn’t like to be vain, but she’s flaunting what she’s got, and she knows there’s no way he’s not looking. 

And she’s right. 

_____________________________

Professor Laufeyson comes to the library more often than last semester. 

Now, this could mean one of two things, Darcy reasons. The first being the most logical reason, in that he’s under more pressure writing his thesis for his doctorate. The second, more irrational reason is that he’s coming to see more of Darcy. And it’s this reason that Darcy prefers the most. 

They still see each other every Tuesday and Thursday night for class. She sits in that same spot in the first row, right in the middle. She toys with him; she can’t help it. Batting her lashes, biting on her pen, sucking the top of it in concentration. All seemingly harmless gestures except for the fact that she prefers to make eye contact with him as she does it.

The way he stares at her in response cannot be coincidental. Eyes dipping down ever so briefly to study the way she wraps her lips around the tip of the pen. The way he clears his throat before looking away. Even the slight crack in his voice one night after she got bold, tipping her head back a little and sliding her tongue up the cap before biting back down. 

It’s not all a game to her though, not really. The alluring professor has invaded her dreams more than a few times already this semester, leaving her waking with a shortness of breath and an unsatisfied ache in her core. And these days her own fingers just aren’t cutting it. 

It’s wrong, she knows. To think about engaging in a relationship like that with a professor. But the thought of it thrills her: imagining his slender fingers caressing her body, the way that tongue of his could whisper dirty promises in her ear. The way she’d lock her legs around his back as he pounds her into her mattress, the both of them moaning into each other’s mouths, or his tender touch as he’d gently rock into her with slow and lazy thrusts in the early morning.

The fantasy usually changes depending on her mood, but the end result is always the same: she’s left unsatisfied with her imagination and wanting the real thing. 

She finds him pouring over his notes one day in early February in the library. It’s a frigid day - most students come tumbling in through the doors bringing a chilly arctic blast with them - so Darcy likes to spend it stacking shelves in the back where it's warm. 

Added bonus? It’s right near where Loki sits. 

Today he’s in a dark green button up, the first few buttons undone to see just the top of his pale chest and clavicle. Darcy can just tell he’s all lean muscle and perfect definition underneath, and it’s with a dreamy sigh that she shoves the last few books into the shelves. 

“How’s the thesis coming, Professor?” She calls out once she’s nearer to him, piquing an eyebrow curiously. 

He looks up, the tension melting off his face ever so slightly as he realizes who’s talking to him. And Darcy loves the way his green eyes seem to light up when he looks at her. He sighs a little, running a hand through that black hair of his, a few strands coming lose from the bun he’s kept it tied in, “Slowly. Painfully. And I still have about seven other books I need to find today.” 

She makes a sympathetic noise, pulling out a chair across from him and sliding in. She leans forward a little, letting her cleavage be pushed out farther against her v-neck shirt, “Honesty hour? I could probably use the same adjectives to describe how things are going for me in your class right now.”

He laughs a little, the sound somehow light and dark at the same time as it tumbles across his lips, “Are you sure about that? You seem to be doing fine to me. You just need to focus a little more.”

“I do focus,” She replies saucily. _Focus on what it might be like to ride your dick to kingdom come,_ she thinks. 

He gives her a look of skepticism, like he doesn’t quite believe her. She bites down on her lip to keep from grinning as an idea strikes her, “How about this? I’ll go find your books for you, if you come up with questions to help me study. One question for every one book I get for you. Deal?”

Loki leans back in his chair, a grin playing across his face as he considers her offer. He brings an index finger to his lips, studying her face before he answers, “That sounds like a fair partnership. Thank you, Miss Lewis.” 

“Thank _you_ ,” She replies, pushing her chair back and standing up. He shows her the list of books he needs and she’s off, plucking book after book off the shelves with ease. The last book she needs is up on a high shelf, and it happens to be right by where Loki’s sitting, so she makes a stop at his table first.

“That’s only six books,” He says pointedly, counting the books with one index finger, “And here I promised you seven study questions…tsk, tsk…looks like I’ll have to scratch one out…” 

“Oh hush,” Darcy replies, smacking him playfully on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “The last book is up on that high shelf back there. I thought you could reach it for me?”

Loki stands up from his seat, stretching a little as a few bones in his back crack, “Alright, though I do believe this still counts as _me_ retrieving a book instead of you, and therefore eliminating your seventh question.”

His tone is that of a jokester, and Darcy notes the twinkle in his eye as she leads him back into the row where his book is located. One of the quietest corners of the library, filled with the echoing silence of long untouched books and dusty shelves. She points up at a high shelf where the book is. 

“There,” She whispers, pointing to a spot just above his head.

Loki reaches around her for the book, and once again they find themselves in close proximity hidden in the bookshelves. He smells the same as she remembers, all cool and crisp with a hint of spice. Her heart beats in her throat just looking at him, and it’s with an impulsive move that she steps forward, grabbing his face for a kiss. 

She must have taken him by surprise, because she can hear the book he’d just grabbed go clattering to the floor. He’s startled at first, a small noise of shock or maybe even protest muffled by her own lips covering his. But then he softens at her touch, even parting his lips a little as she caresses them with her own. 

“Wait, wait, _mmph,_ stop,” He whispers, pulling back and looking at her. His green eyes look confused, startled. She lowers her hands from his face very slowly. Suddenly the silence of the stacks of books surrounding them seems deafening. 

“I’m sorry, I thought…” Darcy begins in a hushed tone, letting her unfinished thought hang between them. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of her chest. Stupid, stupid. Why did she do that? 

“No, it’s just I…I’m your professor,” Loki says, and to Darcy it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince her. 

“But I’m older than the other students. I’m twenty-two, almost twenty-three,” Darcy replies with urgency, desperately trying to make a point. She takes a tiny step closer, their faces almost touching as their breath mingles together in hot little tufts, “It’s okay. I’ve seen the way you look at me…” 

Loki groans, closing his eyes, “I’m sorry…I can’t. It’s not right.” 

When he opens his eyes again, they’re full of apology. He steps back from her, shaking his head as he runs a flustered hand through his hair, “I’m sorry Darcy. I need to get back to my work.”

He leaves her there in the stacks of books, staring after him feeling like a complete idiot. His book lies forgotten and untouched on the floor, and she picks it up in frustration. She groans, leaning forward until her head is resting against the spine of a rather large book on the shelf. When she bangs her head against it, it’s with such force that the book comes popping out the other side. 

Great. 

_____________________________

He makes a point not to stare at her in class from then on, and if Darcy’s being honest with herself, it really drives her up the fucking wall. If anything, her feelings for him have only intensified post-kiss. Those soft, pliant lips. The little noise he made as her lips met his. It’s these sensations that have kept her up at night, craving more. 

“Our first exam is this coming Tuesday,” Loki says at the end of a lecture one night, “Please do find time to study in between all of your Valentine escapades this weekend.” 

The class laughs, packing up their belongings and heading for the door. Darcy licks her lips, staring at him as he talks to a couple of students as they make their way out of the room. She refuses to live in his ignorance for the rest of the semester. Fortunately for her, she’s still got one card left to play. 

It’s all or nothing. And making the now or never move is nonnegotiable in her book. 

He’s just saying goodnight to another student when she approaches him, “So, what advice would you give a student about to bomb your exam?”

“I’d tell that student to study,” He answers without looking at her, regarding her with too much professionalism for her taste. 

“Wellll,” She draws out the word, “Maybe it would be easier to study if I had that list of questions from the professor I’d been promised…”

He huffs out a little sigh, and that’s how she knows he must be somewhat aware of what she’s angling at. She shrugs her shoulders innocently, “Plus, I still have that book of yours. The one you need for your thesis. The one you dropped at the library that day. Maybe we could swap?”

He purses his lips, regarding her carefully for a few seconds. “Fair enough,” He reasons with a tilt of his head in surrender. And it’s with that look that Darcy knows all is not lost. She still has him wrapped around her finger. She smirks ever so subtly as he asks, “Where’s the book?” 

“My apartment.” 

“Fine, we’ll trade at the library tomorrow. Sound fair?”

“I don’t work tomorrow. And I’d like to study this weekend. Swing by my apartment Saturday?”

“Valentine’s Day?” He asks skeptically, that same twinkle of mischief returning to his eyes. He laughs and, god, even the sound of that is so richly dark and so full of sex. “Don’t you have some boy you’d be denying your time?” 

“Not unless you have some girl you’d be denying yours,” She responds quickly, dryly. 

“Quick wit, Miss Lewis,” Loki responds with another dark chuckle. “Alright. I’ll see you Saturday then.” He pauses as if to make a point with a stern look, “To trade belongings. And nothing more.” 

“Right,” Darcy replies, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

_____________________________

She’s dressed in the hottest cherry red dress she owns come Saturday night. Complete with red lipstick and black stilettos. _Nothing more, my ass,_ she thinks sarcastically back to his words from earlier, tousling her hair in the mirror right as the doorbell rings. 

When she opens it, he’s standing there, the list of study questions in his hands. He looks at her expectantly, and she sizes him up as well - dressed nicely in all black, hair slicked back into his usual bun. She can’t help but notice the scent of his aftershave is a bit more prominent than usual. Oh yes. Tonight’s going exactly the way she wanted it to. 

“Your questions,” He says, skipping the greeting. His eyes flicker down her body though, noting her attire. He hands her the papers as he averts his gaze, and she flips through them with a smile. 

“Thanks,” She says, tossing them onto her side table. She looks up at him, coyly biting her bottom lip. The charm is being poured at a full one hundred percent tonight. 

“The book…?” He asks, peering down at her and then around inside the apartment. 

“It’s in my room,” She says, ushering him inside with a gesture.

He steps inside her apartment, looking around. It’s small, definitely suited for Darcy as it’s draped in purple rugs and ornaments, dangly chimes and plants hanging from the ceiling. He raises his eyebrows as he looks around, “Cozy.”

“Thanks,” She replies, taking him by the hand and leading him towards her bedroom. He’s a little hesitant at first, she can tell by the way he stiffens at her touch. This is wrong. So very wrong. And they both know it. A professor inside his student’s apartment, alone, on Valentine’s Day? It won’t take much for it to become much more explicit than it already is. But therein lies the unbridled thrill and secret passion. At least, that is, for Darcy. She’s about to find out if he feels the same.

Once inside her bedroom, she reaches for the book on her windowsill. He’s still standing in her bedroom doorway, as though he knows one more step inside and his fate is sealed. 

“Well, here you go…” Darcy says, plunking the book down into his hands. This is the moment she’s been building towards. If he leaves now, which he easily could, things will be as awkward as ever in their classroom. But she’s not going to make it easy for him. 

He looks down at the book, the look on his face signifying he’s thinking about much more than the Greek pantheon being held between his fingers. When he looks back up, his green eyes are full of struggle, and she can tell he’s torn between backing out and taking that one step closer to her. It’s all right here at the tip of his fingers, his for the taking. 

Darcy takes a bit of pity on him, gently removing the book from his hands and setting it down on the dresser next to them. One hand stays on his the whole time, and she slowly, seductively, glides it up his arm, “You can stay longer, if you’d like.”

She sees him swallowing, fighting it so hard, “I don’t think that would be…ah, appropriate.” 

It’s cute, really, watching him try and deny himself. Darcy takes a step closer, pushing herself gently against him. She has to stand on the tips of her toes to reach his ear, but once she does, she nuzzles it softly with the tip of her nose. The gesture somehow seems more intimate than their previously shared kiss, partially because he hasn’t pushed her away yet.

She nuzzles his earlobe for a few seconds before pressing her lips to the shell of his ear, whispering, “I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

She’s all over him now, hand caressing his arm, face pressed up against his neck and ear, breathing hotly onto his skin. Temptation at its finest. She pulls out the final stop, softly kissing his neck, just once, just enough for him to groan in frustration. 

“Please,” She whines, her voice trailing off into a breathy whisper, “I’ve seen the way you look at me in class. The way I bite my pen. How I suck on the tip.” He shivers a little under her touch at that, and she grins against his neck, “Do you want to fuck me?” 

She hears him swallow, the sound almost painful. Pulling her head back, she brings her face closer to his, butting their noses together, foreheads touching. His eyes are hooded, transfixed on her plump lips. When he flickers his gaze up to meet hers, however, his eyes are suddenly alight with new intentions.

“Yes,” He growls, right before slotting their mouths together in the honest-to-god hottest kiss Darcy’s ever had in her life. His tongue slides into her mouth just as his hand finds the small of her back and pulls her up into him. She’s bowing at his touch, the kiss so deep that she has to tilt her head back. 

He tastes divine, like a fresh stick of wintergreen gum. Darcy could get used to that, she thinks, as the kiss turns wet and urgent, tongues seeking each other out. His other hand comes down to cup her ass, pressing her against him, forcing her to feel the rock hard evidence of arousal through his pants. 

She whimpers at that, “Oh yes, _please_.”

“Do you want to fuck me, Miss Lewis?” He rasps, grinding himself against her. He’s still wearing too many clothes, but she can already tell he’s a big boy. Just like she’d imagined. 

“Uh huh,” She moans, nodding her head as she kisses him again. She’s practically dizzy with lust. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” He promises, his green eyes darkened by his own lust. “I’m going to take you over and over again, screaming my name until your voice is raw. On your hands and knees, underneath me…riding my cock.” He pauses to kiss her hotly, “Do you want to ride my cock?” 

“ _Yes,_ ” She sighs, imagining it now, straddling his waist and bouncing on top of his dick as he grabs her ass. His dirty talk alone is enough to make her wet, not that she wasn’t by this point already. Who would have thought the proper ones would be so downright dirty in bed?

She unhooks his jeans, sliding them down far enough for her to find the outline of his trapped erection and palm him through the cotton of his briefs. His breath hitches in his throat as she works him, feeling the wetness where he was seeping through the material. Poor boy, it must be almost painful for him at this point. She decides it’s her turn for a little dirty talk.

“I’m so wet,” She whispers into his ear, sucking lightly on his earlobe. At the same time, she frees his erection, cupping the hard length of him. She strokes him up and down, loving the little moans of approval he made. “I’m so horny Loki, please, _unnh_ …fuck me.”

“You tease,” He growls, grabbing her wrist with his hand and halting her, “Bed. Now.”

Darcy peels out of her dress, his eyes hungrily soaking up every detail as he watches her. She’d decided on a lacy black bra and panties for tonight, and it’s definitely working its magic. With a wink, she turns around and saunters back towards the bed, slipping out of her heels as she does so. When she looks back at him, he’s already removed his shirt and pants, standing there in only his underwear, just like Darcy. 

“Do you have a condom?” He asks, stepping forward. 

“No,” She breathes shaking her head, “But I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?”

“Yes,” He nods his head fervently.

“Good,” Darcy breathes, taking his hand and guiding him closer to her before sitting back on the bed, “I want to feel you. I want you to come inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, just before leaning into her and kissing her once more, the two of them tangling together on the bed as he settles on top of her. She pushes off his briefs as they continue to kiss, leaving him fully naked, his hot cock trapped between their bodies. 

“That’s hardly fair,” He whispers darkly, reaching underneath her, unhooking her bra and tearing it away from her. She sucks in a gasp as his mouth moves to pay attention to her breasts, sucking hotly on the tops, sure to leave a mark. He tweaks her nipple with one hand while his mouth covers the other, flicking it with his tongue. He knows exactly what he's doing. She shudders and moans deeply. This is what heaven feels like. 

She squirms underneath him, hands tangled up in his messy hair, trying to guide him downward to the ache between her legs, “Touch me, please Loki, touch me…”

He obliges, though not with his mouth. His free hand leaves her nipple, trailing down her stomach until it comes to rest just outside her burning core. His mouth continues to suck on her breasts while two fingers rub against her panties. 

“Oh dear, you are wet,” He rasps darkly at the revelation, pressing harder against the material, feeling just how soaked-through she really was. She mumbles a noise of agreement above him, her thoughts dizzy with lust and urgency. 

He peels off her underwear, tossing them aside before slicking his two fingers in her folds. She cries out at the great sensation, writhing underneath him. The buildup is almost too much.

“Just stick your cock in me, please,” She whines pathetically, her breath coming out in short gasps. Her hair is spread out on the pillow beneath her, her face deliciously flushed and wanton. All it takes is one look from Loki and he eagerly obliges with a single nod, mouth parted as he stares down at the impossibly beautiful creature below him. 

Lining up his cock with her slick folds, he rubs himself against her, the both of them shuddering with deep moans. She’s rocking up against him now, urgently, desperately. “Yes, Darcy,” He moans, pressing his face against the side of her neck. 

She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer, wanting to feel that penetration with every slide of his cock. He’s so close, so close…

“ _Ah,_ ” She gasps sharply as he slides into her with one easy movement. Definitely big. But it feels so good, so satisfying to finally be filled completely with his cock. 

He settles there, sliding all the way in, letting her walls contract and expand around him. When he begins to move, rocking into her with calculating small thrusts, they both sob out with pleasure. He groans into her neck, “Shit, you’re so tight, so tight…” 

“Fuck me harder,” Darcy whimpers, clawing at his back, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, “I want you to make it hurt.”

“Don’t say things like that,” He says, his voice coming out strangled, “Unless you mean them.”

“I mean it,” She replies breathlessly, canting her hips up and pushing herself up onto his cock to prove her point. And that’s really all it takes.

He sets the rythym, pulling out and sliding back in, each time earning a breathy little “oh” from Darcy. He’s rocking above her, rolling into her with great thrusts, grabbing her by the hips as he angles himself impossibly deeper. His fingertips grasp her skin so tightly she knows she’ll bruise, and the thought causes her satisfaction. She’s marked now. She’s his. 

Each thrust brings them closer and closer to frantic fucking, the pace increasing until he’s slamming into her, the both of them crying out strings of “ah” and “yes” and “oh.” The bed is shaking, groaning in protest under the weight of them. Only that and the obscene sounds of their pleasure fill the room.

“Loki I’m so close…so close,” She whispers into the side of his neck, wrapping her arms tighter around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. The tight coil of lust burns in her stomach, expanding and building with every deep slide of his cock. She tilts her head back and really feels it, the warmth of her impending orgasm, radiating through her core. 

“Come for me, Darcy,” Loki commands in her ear, “I want to feel you. I want to feel all of it.” 

She gasps at his hot words in her ear, and combined with every other sensation, it topples her right over the edge. She’s screaming as he continues to plow into her, shaking as her orgasm implodes in her core. Her body vibrates with pleasure, wave after wave of satisfaction rolling through her body as she clenches and spasms around his cock. 

“Fuck,” He groans, the sheer strength of her orgasm stalling him deep inside her. She swears she can feel him pulsing as he chokes out, “I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” She hisses, still in the throws of her orgasmic haze, pulling him tight against her chest. He empties himself into her, the little sounds of pleasure escaping his lips something Darcy will have seared into her memory for the rest of her life. 

When they’ve finished, he rolls over, careful not to collapse right on top of her. They’re both panting, staring glassy-eyed up at her ceiling for a few minutes. Darcy can barely register what had just happened. It was better than anything she could have ever imagined.

“Hey,” She whispers, turning towards him as he looks over at her. His cheeks are flushed with pink, his green eyes sparkling. He cocks an eyebrow at her in response, and that’s when she leans over and kisses him. And he kisses her back. 

They both fall asleep like that, kissing lazily, tangled up in the sheets and each other. Darcy sleeps peacefully, curled up in his strong grasp. When she wakes at some point, probably just after midnight, he’s got another raging hard on pressed squarely into her back as he spoons her. 

She wiggles around so that she’s facing him, his eyes still closed and sleeping soundly. She’s still not entirely conscious herself as she slings a leg over his waist, rutting herself against him, just feeling him, that impossible length that had been sheathed inside her no more than a few hours ago. And she decides she wants more. 

His cocks twitches against her as she continues to roll her hips against him. She snakes one hand between them and begins to lightly trace his erection, pumping it up and down with a tight squeeze at the base and tip. That’s what finally stirs him awake. 

“Darcy?” He asks, his voice still groggy. 

“Shh,” She replies, silencing him with an open-mouthed kiss, “Let me ride you.” 

He groans softly, rolling over onto his back at her guiding push. She climbs on top of him, their boddies flush together, as she rubs herself on his abs. His now leaking cock sits trapped between them, and Darcy finds it readily enough. She sinks down onto it with a low moan, her hands splayed across his chest. 

He’s so impossibly big, Darcy’s not sure how he’s even fitting. She feels so entirely filled with his hot length, rocking forward, earning a wet sob from Loki. Grinning, she dips two fingers into her arousal, stirring herself up as she bobs up and down on top of him. 

His eyes are barely open, just slits, as he watches her begin to ride him. She takes her two fingers and parts his lips, sliding them into his mouth. His eyes flicker open a little wider, pupils blown wide with arousal as he sucks on her fingers, swirling his tongue around them. That hot suction is much more of a turn on than she’d imagined. 

She sits on top of him like this, fingers in his mouth, bouncing on top of his dick. Just like she’d imagined so many times before in class, in the library, even in her own bed at night. Nothing compared to how it felt now. 

His hips jerk up of their own volition, and she pulls out her fingers as she leans down to kiss him, continuing to slide herself up and down on his length, “You feel so good inside of me. Such a big cock…” 

His hands come up to grab her ass, pushing her harder against his cock, and she moans, “Yes, right there, right there.” 

She tips her head back, arching against him, feeling the full length of him move in and out of her. She won’t last long like this, she’s never lasted long on top. She rocks herself faster, enjoying the stretch, feeling the familiar waves of pleasure course through her body faster and faster. 

“Yeah, oh god, oh Loki, I’m gunna...I’m gunna…” She pauses with a broken sob, throwing her head back as she shudders around him, throbbing as she contracts around his cock. She claws at his chest, struggling to find some kind of purchase as her orgasm rocks through her. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki groans underneath her, pulling her close to his chest. She buries her head in his neck, breathing heavy and ragged. It takes her a couple of seconds, but his cock is still resting deep inside her, hot and thick, and he hasn’t come yet. She’s mumbling incoherencies into the crook of his neck, nuzzling him, and she feels his hips roll up into her once more. 

“Please,” She whines softly, kissing his neck, “That’s it. Fuck me.”

It’s all the encouragement Loki needs as he rocks his hips up into hers, and she cries out from the over-sensitized pleasure of it all. After a few ragged jerks, his body spasms helplessly as he comes for the second time that night with a strangled cry. Darcy murmurs naughty words of encouragement as he empties himself into her. 

“Fuck, woman,” He says, finally catching his breath after a few minutes, the both of them spent. “You’ll be the death of me, I’m certain.”

“Good,” She replies, bending down and opening his lips with a sinful kiss. 

They fall asleep shortly afterwards, only to be wakened by the same strong desires again throughout the night. Darcy’s not sure how many times they fuck really, or when one ends and the other begins. All she knows is that she’s as blissed out as she’s ever been, and sleeping with Professor Laufesyon is the best thing that’s ever happened to her during her time at this damned university. Maybe even in her whole life. 

“Yes, yes, _unnh_ , make me come…make me come…” She whines in the early morning, the sun just peaking through the blinds. Loki’s tongue is buried deep inside her folds, working tirelessly at her, making her shudder and gasp and whine and beg. Her hands are on his head, guiding him as she grinds against his face, unable to help herself. She’s never come from oral sex before, but as she releases around him, she decides it’s one of the best feelings in the world. 

“Fuck yes,” Darcy sighs as he crawls back on top of her, kissing her with a wet tongue, letting her taste herself. “You’re incredible, did you know that?”

“Always nice to be reminded,” He laughs, the sound low and rumbly as he lays down next to her. He draws lazy circles with his index fingers against her stomach, making her laugh. 

“Are you ticklish?” He asks with surprise, staring at her incredulously. “How cute.”

“No, I’m not,” Darcy lies through her teeth, only because she’s _extremely_ ticklish, and really doesn’t want him privy to this information right now. She has to bite down on her lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing. 

“You most certainly are,” He replies, gently skimming a few more fingers across her side, and she can’t help herself from laughing out loud. Fuck, how can one guy be a sex god extraordinaire and the world’s most adorable cuddler all at the same time?

She gasps, out of breath from laughing as he leans in and kisses her, hands still tickling her side, “No, no, stop, please!” 

He chuckles against her lips, “What a compelling argument you’re posing.” But he stops his fingers nonetheless. His mouth, on the other hand, is still making swift work of her own. 

“Do you want breakfast?” She asks after a few more minutes of lazy kissing, “I can make breakfast.”

“Mmm, I can think of a few other things I’d like instead,” He replies, kissing her softly, his lips lingering on hers. 

“Are we just gunna spend all day in bed?” Darcy asks light-heartedly, “Not that I mind, I mean. Far from it, actually. But I do have this test coming up that I need to study for, and the professor can be kind of strict…”

“Is that so?” Loki plays along, his voice low and soft in her ear. “Well, I’ll be sure to put in a good word with him for your defense. I’m sure he’d understand it if more pressing issues arose, preventing you from your studies…”

“How generous of you,” Darcy gasps with mock delight, and they both fall into a fit of laughter. Loki wraps her up in his arms, and it’s not long before they’re tumbling around together in the sheets again, both insatiable, unable to get enough of one another. 

“Does that mean I get an automatic A?” Darcy asks between kisses, looking up into his green eyes. She could float away and get lost in those eyes if she really wanted to. Maybe she already has. 

“Only if you work for it,” He replies, his double entendre causing her to smirk.

“With pleasure, professor.”


End file.
